


Antara

by avani



Series: The Nidhana 'Verse [2]
Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Missing Scene, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avani/pseuds/avani
Summary: “I had hoped—the Queen Mother always listened to the stories I told her with the greatest interest...."--Kattappa,Nidhana, Chapter 3.





	Antara

**Author's Note:**

> Antara: (Sanskrit, noun) distance, absence; OR, weakness; OR, heart, soul, interior.
> 
> Spoilers through at least Chapter 2 of Nidhana.

At times the duties of the Queen Mother weigh too heavy on Sivagami's heart.     

Consider: Kattappa has served Sivagami faithfully for many years, and by now, he holds a greater claim to her trust and friendship than any other man or woman living. What he does with such limited leisure as is granted to him is none of her concern. But the Queen Mother of Mahishmati must know what the commander of her armies and the throne's bound slave does with his time; to do otherwise would be both negligent and dangerous.      

This is why she sits here, on tonight of all nights, waiting.      

The moon has risen and set by the time he returns. His face is exultant; he smiles to see her, as though expecting her to share in his joy. Sivagami forces her face impassive.       

"A boy," Kattappa croaks, holding his arms an improbable distance apart to suggest the baby's size. "Mahendra Baahubali, after his father!"      

Mahendra will do well enough for a king's name, if it comes to that. "And the mother?" she asks before she can think better of it. She knows her son well enough to be aware he cannot tolerate one more loss, least of all that of the woman who'd successfully beguiled him away from all he'd loved before. Sivagami wishes wisdom for Baahu, not bereavement.       

"Well," says Kattappa, "and happy"; but she sees hope creep across his face: bright and blissful and inevitably bitter someday. She would spare him the disappointment if she could.        

She looks away and dismisses him without a word; the questions welling up in her mind go unasked and unanswered. She does not sleep until dawn, and even then, the phantom hand of a memory curls around her finger.  

* 

When Kattappa comes to her, face grim, she fears the worst. "More news from the islands?" she speculates. "The revolt is worse than we feared?"      

Kattappa shakes his head, as though emerging from a daze. "No, my lady. As best as I know, it's nothing of the sort--not yet, at least."       

"Then what caused such distraction on your part?" she demands. "I expect better from you, Kattappa."       

He hangs his head. "And I of myself, my lady. Forgive me." He looks up only long enough to meet her questioning gaze for an instant. "It is Mahendra."       

Lung-fever, plague, quinsy: she knows of a thousand illnesses that could claim an infant's life. Her hand tightens around the armrest of her seat until the knuckles turn white.         

"He's teething," Kattappa continues, and she finds herself able again to release the breath burning in her lungs. "He is utterly unlike himself, Queen Mother; he wails and rages and wouldn't leave his father's arms to come to me at all. For days it has been so. They've tried everything: ginger root, licorice...."       

"No child ever died of teething," Sivagami says brusquely. "We all must endure when it's our time. Enough of this. Tell me about the state of our troops, Kattappa."          

"Yes, my lady." Kattappa looks up again, timidly. "Before I do--again I beg you to consider Baahu's request to join the troops and help as best as he can. I know him, my lady, he won't even ask to be made an officer or demand any rank; he only wants to serve his country...."       

A teething son at home should keep him busy enough, Sivagami thinks; he needs no further concerns. She needs no further concerns, for that matter, wondering how much further military service will raise his popularity with the public.        

"Absolutely not," she says sharply, and watches Kattappa's shoulders droop. He asks for so little, so infrequently; it's this more than anything that prompts her to add:      

"Cloves."        

"My lady?"        

"Tell them to take clove oil, dilute it well, and apply it to the gums. If it served to soothe Baahu when he was young, I would imagine it would work as well for his son."       

Kattappa shuffles his feet. "Coming from an old military man like me, such a thing would only sound absurd. Could you not pass on your wisdom yourself, Queen Mother?"       

The thought is--tantalizing. Thrilling. Terrifying. "You may tell them, or you may not. That choice is yours; to ask anything else is impossible. Now, again I ask you: what of the troops?" 

* 

"Baa," confirms Kattappa in response to her surprise.      

"His father's first word was much earlier," Sivagami remembers, not a little disappointed. Unlike Bhalla, who'd needed to have that first no coaxed and cajoled from unwilling lips, Baahu had merely sat up one morning, smiled at her, and said, "Mother" in clear, precise tones.     

"Oh, he already knows _Mother,_ and _Uncle,_ and  _Up!”_ Kattappa smiles. "Even _Grandfather—"_      

That rankles. _Grandfather_ unquestionably when, by rights, Kattappa shares as little blood with the boy as--as does she.       

"But not _Father,_ no matter how much Baahu tried. Mahendra would only frown at him and say _Baa_ instead. It took us longer than it should have to realize he’d learned that was his father’s name; we assumed he was imitating the goats instead—“ 

“The goats?” repeats Sivagami. It is easier to focus her attention on that word rather than the inclusive, familial “we” he had used. 

“The goats,” says Kattappa, looking surprised. “Mahendra is very fond of them. He laughs and reaches out for them whenever he’s taken out to go see them.” 

Mahishmati’s heir, growing up unwashed and uncouth in a goatyard: unacceptable. She had had hopes that….but impractical to place all her expectations on one child alone. That lesson at least she should have learned by now. She’ll have to find Bhalla a bride so he can father an heir of his own, then; an heir that can be raised with a proper understanding of his position. An heir she will be able to watch grow and flourish before her. 

When Kattappa continues, “And only the other day, Mahendra—“ Sivagami raises a hand to stop him. 

“Enough, Kattappa,” she tells him wearily. “I no longer wish to hear anything on the subject.” 

* 

Kattappa is obedient; sometimes overly so. He does not breathe a word regarding the boy for months, more than a year, until the day she listens to his reports about the security of the southern borders in silence and then prompts: 

“And?” 

By now, Kattappa has saved her life ten times over; nevertheless, she has never felt more grateful than when he does not demand elaboration on her part and only replies: “He turned three yesterday.” 

“Yes.” 

“A fine boy.” Kattappa’s voice is warm. “He questions everything. Worse—“ he adds before she needs to clarify “—than his father was. Warm-hearted. Happy, I believe.” 

That will have to be enough. She remembers her sons at three; they had seemed happy, too. Foolishly she had believed they were all happy, until it was too late to do anything about it. 

“I had heard, my lady,” Kattappa pauses to clear his throat, “that while I was away, the Queen had been taken ill again….?” 

Sivagami has never had much patience for prevarication. “Another child lost, yes. Your Mahendra has no cause for worry.” 

Kattappa frowns. “That is why you inquired after him after all these years, Queen Mother.” 

If there is one thing her life has taught her, it is how to lie. “Yes,” she answers, “that is why.” 

* 

“The Royal Family of Kuntala has crossed our borders,” Kattappa confesses, and Sivagami frowns. 

“And yet they sent no word ahead to us? They do not intend to make a diplomatic visit?” 

He cannot meet her eyes. “They believe as long as their sister is not welcome in the palace, neither are they.” 

“Very well.” These days Sivagami finds herself bone-tired more often than not. It seems Kuntala’s unprecedented cooperation with Mahishmati was wholly dependent on their princess’s welcome; that denied, they have returned to their prior icy disregard. Once she would have taken instant umbrage, but now, she only knows Bhalla will take enough offense for both of them. Besides: “They came to see the boy, I take it?” 

He nods. “Mahendra is overjoyed. Everything is _Aunt Sumitra_ this, and _Elder Uncle_ that. I gather he means to show them the entire village from top to bottom, as though they had never seen one before.” He chuckles. “Even if they meant to present themselves before you, I suspect he would not let them go without a fight, Queen Mother.” 

So much the better. Let the King and Queen of rustic Kuntala crawl around a village of no significance after a boy who doesn’t know any better. Sivagami can hardly begrudge them that. What she can and does begrudge is the chance to see this charming child; in her mind, he is featureless but smiling, always smiling. He crawls into her lap and she need not be anything more than who she is—Grandmother rather than Queen Mother. 

He could be hers, to know and to love, were it not that the law says otherwise: and her word is and must be the law. 

“Wait to inform His Majesty until after they’ve gone away again,” commands Sivagami wearily, and Kattappa bows his head. 

* 

Varuni delivers her child with as little fuss as she does everything else, and Sivagami, gratified, awaits news with far less anxiety than she had the birth of her first grandchild. Loyal Kattappa keeps her company throughout her vigil, telling stories to pass the time, and by sunset Sivagami has heard of the quest for the bird’s nest, of Mahendra’s misadventures climbing anything and everything that he could reach, and of his determination to master his miniature bow. 

“He looks so like his father,” concludes Kattappa, in a tone that would almost be considered sly coming from anyone else. “If only you could see him yourself, Queen Mother—“ 

The faceless child of her imaginings comes into sharp, sudden focus; Sivagami catches her breath. “And why can’t I?” she hears herself say acidly. 

“My lady?” exclaims Kattappa. “You can’t mean—“ 

She casts a warning look in his direction. “A visit only. It is past time we saw what the boy was made of; there have been enough whispers in the court already about his capabilities without compounding the rumors by keeping him hidden away.” 

“And if the King should ask—“ 

She raises her eyebrows. “The King may choose to make whatever he wants out of this visit. That is his right.” As long, she promises herself, as Bhalla doesn’t try to rob her of her right to see Mahendra for herself at last. She gestures imperiously. “Go, Kattappa. Send one of your men and tell Baahu to bring his family to me by mid-morning tomorrow.” 

“At once, my lady,” Kattappa says, and spins on his heel. There is a spring in his step that hasn’t been present in years; for once, she shares the hope that animates him. 

Baahu’s child, Sivagami thinks breathlessly, Baahu come again. A second chance. 

One she does not intend to squander.

**Author's Note:**

> The first (but I'm afraid, probably not the last) of the apology fics! Multiple people had wanted variations of this scene, I assumed: Ramya wanted a Sivagami POV, Anamika requested _the stories Kattappa tells Sivagami about Mahendra_ , and lots of people wanted more insight into what the heck Sivagami had been thinking all those years, so here are a few snippets into the missing years from her perspective!
> 
> Other notes as follows:
> 
> *"Lung fever"=pneumonia; "quinsy"= peritonsillar abscess. Both unfortunate and potentially lethal childhood illnesses/infections in a pre-antibiotic world. 
> 
> * Cloves, licorice, and ginger root are apparently traditional remedies for teething, as per my research! That said, the ubiquitous "please don't take medical advice from fanfic" warning always applies.
> 
> *Translating the terms for family members into English likely makes Mahendra's difficulty with his first few words seem rather unrealistic (i.e. "Why can't he say 'Father' if he can manage 'Grandfather'?"). For the record, I don't think baby Mahendra's playing favorites with what to call his parents; he hears his mother being called _Amma_ (in this context, "Lady") by others to assume that is part of her name, but his beloved grandfather and uncle clearly call his father Baahu/bali, so he just can't understand why everyone is so intent on tricking him into saying _Appa/Nanna_ instead!
> 
> *In Chapter 4 of Nidhana, Mahendra briefly mentions that he last saw his aunt and uncle fifteen months previous. This, of course, is the visit mentioned there.
> 
> *And, finally, naturally the final section overlaps with Chapter 1 of Nidhana.


End file.
